


My Own Blood

by vogue91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Introspection, OOC, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 21:29:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12992904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: "I am a Black. Renowned race of pureblood wizards and witches.It’s something I’ve always hated.My sisters, Narcissa and Bellatrix, they adore that feeling of omnipotence derived from our name.A name. Madness. Like that’s enough to establish who you are."





	My Own Blood

**Author's Note:**

> I've been translating all the stuff I've wrote in this fandom. I don't really adore they way I used to write, and english is not my native language, but still... there it is.

**Andromeda**

I am a Black. Renowned race of pureblood wizards and witches.  
It’s something I’ve always hated.  
My sisters, Narcissa and Bellatrix, they adore that feeling of omnipotence derived from our name.  
A name. Madness. Like that’s enough to establish who you are.  
To my ancestry, apparently, it does.  
Toujour pur. Always pure. Sirius and I have always laughed at that motto, while the others seem to ignore the ridiculousness in its nature.  
Pureblood, yes. Slytherin, enslaved eternally to darkness. How have I hated the Sorting Hat my first night at Hogwarts. “Slytherin!”, was the name of my damnation. And Bellatrix... I’ll never forget the satisfied smirk on her face. Her little sister, that crazy little thing who didn’t seem to care about her roots, was once again subdued by the power of blood. That pure blood that the Sorting Hat didn’t fail to see.  
Same fate to Narcissa, who was although, not happy, but at least condescending. She’s always been the more quiet among the three of us. The more subjugated.  
I’ve tried, from time to time, to rebel to our parents. My sister’s favourite word, instead, was “Yes”. She never disowned nothing and nobody, she just forced herself to go on without making any problem.  
Bella’s the only one who truly loves who we are. She really does. She’s bewitched by that barbarian refusal of Mudbloods, bewitched by the misleading power over other people. More than born to rule, I think she’s born to torture. Her eyes are veiled by a cruelty mixed with sadism that would give nightmares to whomever is not used to it. When I was a child, I froze. Now I don’t really notice. That cruelty has become a routine.  
In the hallways, I see my sisters together. Bellatrix had fun cursing anyone within her reach, her favourites were Mudbloods, mostly Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws. And when she was scolded, she just looked at the professor in question and shrugged. She didn’t know yet an authority that could scare her.  
And with time, Narcissa was sucked into that vortex. I never knew if she did it for ideal or adjustment. She started slowly to abandon the role of the bystander to become active in our older sister’s vexations.  
And me? I was in a limbo. Rejected by the others for being a Slytherin, a Black nonetheless, and rejected by the Slytherins for not being worthy of my name.  
A torture. I learnt to love solitude, there were very few people who managed not to put a label on me, to go over the surface. But there were moments, nothing lasting.  
And Bellatrix always tried to take advantage of that weakness to catch me in her web,  
I didn’t give in.  
I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my mind, my thoughts, my very own heart for a life that in return would’ve given me nothing but emptiness, annihilation, destruction.

**Narcissa**

I’ve always been at someone else’s mercy. When I was a girl, my tyrants were my parents and Bellatrix. Now that I’m a woman, Lucius and Draco.  
I’ve always lived in the shadows, knowing that my place should’ve been somewhere else, that I wasn’t supposed to become Narcissa Black Malfoy, but to stay little Cissy forever.  
I couldn’t. Or maybe I didn’t want to.  
Daddy always forced me to be more like Bellatrix. And so I did. I followed her everywhere, but my life was no longer my own. I gave it to her the moment I said the first ‘yes’. Yes, Bella, Mudbloods are scum. Yes, Bella, let’s go terrorize the first years. Yes, Bella, I’ll do what mum and dad want, I’ll marry Lucius Malfoy.  
Yes, yes, yes.  
Dromeda... she’s got some guts. It wasn’t so much about her ideas, but the courage to act on them. Where I’ve accepted it all, she never did. I don’t think she knows how much I admire her for this.  
I still remember her wandering through the hallways at school, with that look on her face that spoke of bitterness, but with the pride of a girl who walks on her own. And, if you can walk with your own legs, you can go wherever you want.  
And she went away.  
Marrying a Muggle-Born... I don’t think my parents could’ve imagined something worse. I’m sure they’d rather she was dead.  
But she wasn’t. She’s always been the more alive among the three of us.  
And me the most lifeless. In that grey house, listening to schemes, plots, watching tortures and murders.  
The most vivid memory I have of my cousin Sirius, the poor sod, is not from that far back.  
“You’ve got beautiful eyes, Cissy. And you’ve been so stupid to condemn them to watch all this.”  
And he’s always been like Andromeda. Cheerful, lively. Too much to be a Black. So Regulus and I, we were the only hopes. Aside from Bellatrix, but she’s always been a certainty.  
The certainty that death would’ve kept on staining the name they were all so proud of. The certainty that the future of the Black family was in the hands of a murderer. The certainty that no one would’ve dared to defy her ferociousness.  
She’s an hunting animal, our Bella. She’s been one since she was a child, and she’ll be like this forever.  
For sure she’s the one who’s had the weirdest wedding.  
Mine, arranged, has never really touched me. I’ve learnt to care about Lucius, but nothing more that that.  
Dromeda, with his Ted, has gained what no Black has ever dared to hope: happiness.  
And Bella... Lestrange was nothing but an ornament. Her actual wedding, my sister has had it with pure darkness.

**Bellatrix**

Mother used to say it to me all the time.  
“You’re the most beautiful, my darling. The smartest. The most gifted.”  
And, oh, I still am.  
When I was still at that place for Mugglephiles that is Hogwarts, there was a way to know if you truly had power.  
It was measured by the fear in everyone else’s eyes.  
And they always looked down when I walked by.  
Another way was to see where you were positioned in Slughhorn’s scale. That poor, old idiot. A clear example of a man who lives off other people’s achievements. But still, he recognized my abilities, in his subject and in the world.  
The domination of it, of course.  
It’s not a choice. It’s always been my nature to pave a road in front of me, to make a certain kind of decisions.  
And I chose to be the best.  
My sisters have always been a failure the way I see it. Both weak, both too docile to matter for something in this world.  
Narcissa, sweet little Narcissa, is always been private. But I liked her dedication. The way she followed me, the way she awkwardly tried to imitate me. She never could.  
Like my mother used to highlight, for my joy and her pain, I’m not that easy to match.  
And Andromeda... the despise on her face anytime she talked to me gave me an adrenalin rush that to this day I haven’t been able to match. She rejected everything I was and did, and it was her rejection that kept me going. It was an eternal challenge between the two of us, between me and the limits of what she was going to stand.  
Maybe I’m the only one who knows, but those limits are what forced her to run. All that candour, that goodness that oozed out of her...  
We’re very much alike. Physically. The only thing that really separates us is the look in our eyes. I haven’t seen my little sister in a long time, and yet I can imagine her in such a vivid way that it almost tastes like a memory. I see her, wife of a filthy Mudblood, mother of that nasty Metamorphomagus, mother in law to that freak of nature. Her nice little family. But I’m sure she’s happy, she’s always liked mediocrity.  
Better to be a commoner than a Black, was her thesis.  
A Black.  
Never a last name has been more appropriate.  
Black. Like my soul if I still possess one. If it’s not already lost in time, drowned in the blood of those unworthy, killed in the name of something bigger.  
My Lord saw me. He looked inside of me, like only he can do. He saw that black, and it captivated him. And, for revenge, he captivated me.  
I don’t think I can even imagine a better abduction.

 

**Andromeda**

I remember crystal clear the day our mother called us in the living room, telling us she had important news.  
I remember. And the shiver down my spine is still echoing through me.  
At that time, Bellatrix was twenty-one, I was nineteen and Narcissa barely seventeen.  
I remember. So well.

 _“Your father and I have got marvellous news.” she said to the girls, who sat on the couch. Andromeda looked sad, Narcissa embarrassed and Bellatrix bored._  
_“What news, mother?” Cissy asked._  
_“Cygnus, would you like to tell them?”_  
_The man, sitting on a chair and reading the Daily Prophet, looked as bored as his first-born. He shrugged._  
_“Never mind, Druella, you can tell them.” he conceded, getting back to read right away. She rose an eyebrow, but didn’t comment._  
_“Your father and I have spoken with the Lestranges and the Malfoys. Do you girls remember Rodolphus, Rabastan and Lucius?” she asked her daughters. The three of them nodded. Bellatrix and Andromeda understood what their mother wanted to tell them; the only one who still seemed confused, was Narcissa. “Very well, they have accepted our proposal of arranged marriages. Bella, you are going to marry Rodolphus; Dromeda will marry Rabastan and Cissy Lucius.” she said, waiting for the girls' response._  
_Their reactions weren’t what she was hoping for, whilst being very different one from the other._  
_Bellatrix chuckled, but she didn’t refuse. “Fine, mother. If this is what you and dad want, that’s fine by me.” Narcissa looked at her horrified. She was forced to agree too, now. She just nodded, like she was unable to speak._

My reaction, of course, was the one that irritated our mother.  
I refused. I screamed. I didn’t have any intentions to subdue to what they were forcing me to. At that time I already knew my Ted. We had fallen in love, he knew all about me, about my family.  
And he was a Muggle-Born. He would’ve never had the prejudices the others had toward me, because he had spent his whole childhood without hearing my name, and when he knew me he loved me.  
It was one of the last days I spent in the home I was born into.  
I was sent away life you do an House-Elf, but without the grace to take clothes with me.  
From riches to rags, and never have rags been more comfortable on me. When I went to Ted and I explained to him what had happened, he welcomed me with a smile, asking me to move in. After a few months we got married. And he gave me Nymphadora, the greatest gift I ever received.  
His face when he saw that strange child with pink hair, is one of the memories I want to keep for my whole life. A few moments, and we both were enchanted by that little creature.  
But still, there was a trace of bitterness inside me that day. The more I looked at my daughter, the more I asked myself who would ever trade that gift for something so useless and deceptive such as the pureness of blood.  
But if I’d had an answer to that question, I would’ve been a Black, just like the others.  
I, instead, am proud of being a Tonks.

**Narcissa**

Bellatrix Black. My sister. The one I’ve tried to follow my whole life. That day I started to hate her.  
And to hate myself.  
Protesting would’ve been enough. Following Dromeda instead of Bella, just once.  
Instead my usual fear prohibited me any form of rebellion.  
Bellatrix could’ve easily say yes, because it was going to be just a formality for her. While I knew for certain I was gonna condemn my whole life with my own hands. I remembered Lucius very well, from school and from social visits at his house and mine, and I knew I didn’t like him one bit. I found him pompous, self-centred and boring. If I could’ve had a say, I wouldn’t have spent one day with him. Not to mention my whole life.  
And that was how my wedding day was also my funeral.  
Or so I thought.  
I learnt not to dislike Lucius so much. He was kind to me and I respected him.  
Less than a year later, the turning point.

 _“Lucius?” his wife said to him, getting. close to his desk. He raised his eyes, distracted._  
_“Yes, Cissy?” he asked, blunt as usual._  
_“Yes. I...” she took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant, Lucius.”_

Draco. My Draco. For Lucius he was a source for hope, a boy to raise with those principles that at those times Voldemort was so fond of.  
To me, he was everything.  
Draco has been raised wrongly, spoiled by his father and I. Sometimes I see a light in his eyes, and I’m scared to see Bella in his face. But, unfortunately for him, genetics didn’t save him from my weakness. He’s nothing like Bella. He’s evil for nurture, not nature. And yet I owe everything to this child of mine, now almost a man, who taught me everything I know.  
It is thanks to him that I’m now stronger. It is thanks to him that I’m never alone.  
I don’t know if I have to blame maternal love, its being unconditional, but I love my son. Madly.  
To him I’m a mere accessory, like for everybody else. He ignores everything about me, he knows I’m there to satisfy his every whim, like a good mother. But I’m okay. I’d just want to never lose him.  
But Lucius’ got his plans with Draco, his schemes. He wants to see him powerful, and he doesn’t see he will never be.  
He can’t, and I don’t want him to.  
He’s the only thing I have. If the Dark Lord was to take him away from me... my life, already so senseless, would lose all its meaning. It would lose its light, its beauty. And I’d be back the old Narcissa Black, that little, silent girl who could only subjugate herself to others.  
And one of the few decisions I’ve made on my own, it’s that I don’t wanna be like than ever again.

**Bellatrix**

Rodolphus Lestrange was a mediocre man. And I had thought so since the day I met him, years before. He was a little older than me, but he seemed precociously aged. He reminded me of Cissy, in a way: silent, shy, always ready to give in to his parents.  
I doubt he ever wanted to marry me. He got some gratification from the proliferation of Pureblood families opposed to the Muggle ones, and I totally agreed with that.  
But I wasn’t in any way willing to give him a child.  
After the wedding, we kept living like the other one didn’t exist. And he tried a few times to impose his will onto me. Poor man. After he understood I wasn’t going to be enslaved to his grey existence, and that my behaviour was much different, much more sharp than his, he convinced himself to let me be.  
We were married on papers, and that was enough for his parents and mine.  
During those years I kept in contact with Cissy, because of our husbands and my Lord. The first time I visited her she seemed... changed. She didn’t lower her eyes like when she was younger. She looked at me, pretending to have erased that reverential fear she had toward me, that had accompanied her during her whole childhood. That day I felt like laughing in her face.

 _“Little Cissy’s becoming a woman? She’s not afraid anymore of her big, bad sister?” Bellatrix mocked her, with that acute pitch her sister hated so much. Cissy, as a matter of fact, looked annoyed._  
_“Cut it, Bella. We’re not little girls anymore.” she hissed. The elder laughed. She had never seen her sister answer back so quickly, and she told herself that marriage, all in all, could do her some good._  
_“Oh, Narcissa, can’t I have a little fun? I was only here to see you, to see the house. Things you do with your sisters.” Cissy looked at her, doubtful._  
_“Bella, I know. Why are you really here?” she asked, bitter. The witch’s face lit up in a devious smile._

Then I talked to her about him. I explained to her what he said, what he preached. And I asked her, since Lucius was already a part of the circle of Tom Riddle, back then already starting to be Lord Voldemort, whether she wanted to be a part of it.  
But I had considered too much the Cissy of the past, without thinking about the present one.  
Her blunt rejection is still echoing in my ears.  
She panicked, and started walking back and forth, until she went and took Draco up, rocking him as a way to calm herself down.

 _“Cissy, relax, I…” she started, her voice mocking her, but her sister interrupted her._  
_“Bellatrix, I’ve always been on your side. I wanted to be like you, in everything. But now things have changed. I’ve got a family now.” she said._  
_The following laughter was the highest Narcissa had ever heard._  
_“Family? And you call this a family? How can this be a family when your marriage was arranged? How about you and Lucius, are you” she grinned “’in love’?” she spat the word._  
_Cissy went to the door and opened it._  
_“Go away, Bella.” she ordered, dry. Without another word, but never stopping to look at her, the witch went away, slowly._

We made our peace, eventually. But Narcissa had left me a bitter taste, that strange feeling of defeat that I had never felt before.  
Since then I’ve wondered if maybe I should’ve taken that as a sign, as one of those boundaries I’ve always liked to cross.  
But, as usual, I paid no attention to it, drawn to the days I had ahead of me.

**Andromeda**

The first time I saw Bellatrix after my parents threw me out, was on the Daily Prophet.  
Wanted. Death Eater. Dark Mark.  
Those words filled with darkness were the only thing associated with the ever-so-respected name of Black.  
I didn’t know how to get some information. I had been a pariah for years, and I hadn’t had any contact with any member of my family.  
I thought about Sirius. We’ve always had a nice relationship, we were so much alike. After a lot of owls, I finally found him at Potter’s home. He told me about what was happening. He explained to me how He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had gained power, how he had extended his dominion. And Bellatrix was his.  
How could it be any different? That woman, that dark animal, had paved a road of pure evil, and that wizard was granting her every wish. I knew she wouldn’t want to refuse, that she was destined to become the worst of killers, the most cruel torturer.  
My sister... seeing that picture on the paper, those features so similar to mine, made me shiver.  
I didn’t think I would’ve been so touched by seeing her, never mind in her current status.  
I felt like... afloat. Like I was dragged back to years before, when my world unravelled among her same walls, when I had grown used to that evil-filled look, that the Prophet showed so well.  
I’ve always identified that monster as my sister’s ultimate ruin. The only thing I could still hope for, was that Cissy was out of it. I was afraid sooner or later, because of her nature and the way she always bent for everyone else, that she would’ve ended up dealing with something bigger than her.  
It was then that I finally realized Narcissa was more like me than she cared to show. Except, I had the strength to rebel, the courage she never had. Black’s nerve, the only quality I cared to have from that family, was brutally denied to her.  
We were equals in our desires, little Cissy and I.  
Other people were her undoing. It was Cygnus and Druella Black, it was Bellatrix, it was Lucius and Draco.  
Maybe I loved her, in a way I was the first not to understand. If we were born in a different universe, she would’ve been the sister I’ve always wished to have by my side.  
While my fate had reserved for me nothing but enemies.

**Narcissa**

I couldn’t say how I found the strength to refuse the Dark Lord. The first time I saw him, I froze. Those eyes, so sharp, seemed able to gaze into my soul with an unbelievable easiness.  
I found out a long time after that his capabilities as a Legilimens, and I understood he had read my mind and my entire existence in a few moments. And maybe it saved me.

 _“So... you are Narcissa Black.” Voldemort hissed, close to the woman. She raised her eyes, proud, but she couldn’t find the courage to look at him straight in the eyes._  
_“I’m Narcissa Malfoy.” she pointed out. The following laughter made her shiver._  
_“Don’t reject the power of your name for the cowardice of Lucius’.”_  
_“I believed my husband was one of your trusted servants.” Cissy murmured, shyly._  
_“Dedication... that’s what Lucius lives for. He’s got a lot of hope, but he doesn’t believe in me. He believes merely in the importance he gets from staying close to me. He’s sly enough, I’ve got to admit that.” she didn’t comment on that._  
_“What do you want from me?”_  
_“I’m sure” he said, bringing a hand close to her face, brushing it. “that with the proper training you could become a far more powerful witch than you are now. More than Lucius. Even more than Bella.”_

I’m ashamed to say, but that proposal tempted me for a moment. I, who had always followed Bella like a light, or better a shadow, far, I could’ve had the chance to overcome her.  
But I didn’t give in. It’s the thing I’m most proud of in the world.  
I never hindered them, not Lucius nor my sister, not Draco when he wanted to be a part of that circle of violence and death.  
But I stayed out of it, distant bystander of heinous crimes.

**Bellatrix**

I have been and will always be his.  
My Lord is the one who brought me on the palm of his hand up until places I didn’t know existed.  
He gave me a new life, where I managed to get out from the commonness of that convenient marriage, existing just to let the pureness of blood last.  
When I met him for the first time, I got blinded.  
His charm hit me, like a punch in the stomach. He oozed magic and power.  
Having him close has always given me a rush of excitement I’ve never felt like in my whole life.  
I conquered his trust. I’ve killed, tortured and tormented hundreds of pathetic Mudbloods, or wizards who didn’t want to join him.  
The excitement in these actions couldn’t have possibly compared to the one I felt when he smiled at me, proud.  
He rarely scolded me, unlike he did with all the others. It was different with me. He trusted me, and I knew all too well I was the only one.  
I’ve always thought his respect may turn to attraction, but it never happened. He’s too powerful to give in on such low instincts. But it doesn’t matter, I just need to be able to be by his side.  
My one moment of yielding, I had when he started to have an interest in Narcissa. I remember that day, when he came back from Malfoy Manor. He was... delighted.

 _“Bella, what do you think of your sister?” he asked, thoughtful._  
_“My sister? She’s weak, poor her. She’s always tried to do everything I did.” she explained, arrogant._  
_“Really? And yet she’s just refused the Mark.” he smiled, devilishly. “Maybe she’s more secure than you think.” Bella raised an eyebrow, malicious._  
_“She’s afraid for her child. That dull son of Lucius. It’s known, anyway, that when a woman becomes a mother she loses her reason for good.”_  
_“Maybe. But she seemed more than rational to me.”_

He let her live. Despite her denying him her power. I know my Lord didn’t do it out of respect for Lucius, he’s never been so weak as to give into this kind of formalities.  
He saw something in Cissy that we’ve all ignored, and that as of today I still don’t know what is.  
Since that moment, I’ve hated her.  
Many times I’ve hoped for that stupid boy to die, just for the pleasure of seeing her pain.  
That’s why I never opposed Draco’s mission, I knew he couldn’t possibly kill Dumbledore. He wasn’t strong enough.  
But then Severus had to meddle, that filthy traitor, whom I’ve always despised. And he fixed it.  
For them, not for me. That arrogant little blond boy was still alive, as were those cowards of his parents.  
They weren’t worthy to belong to him, they never were.  
I was the only one who could stay by his side. Together, ruling over the Wizarding World.

**Andromeda**

My happiness was brief, yet pure.  
I dreamt of aging in peace, with my baby and Remus, I dreamt of my grandchildren’s faces, to raise them alongside my husband.  
But Dora was taken away from me. Like Remus, like Ted.  
And now I read their faces in the one of my only grandson, of Teddy, the fruit of that love broken too soon.  
Too many times I’ve desired to die as well.  
In moments of madness, I wished I was like Bellatrix, full just of mere hate. Because the very love I gave to my family was the thing that brought me unbearable suffering.  
But I am Andromeda Black, I’m the brave one, the one who never let anything defeat her.  
Andromeda Tonks doesn’t exist anymore.  
I’m back to be that resentful child who wanders among the hallways, among people she doesn’t know how to reach.  
Life is a circle.  
I was born alone, and alone I’ll die, lightened up only by the face of that child, destined like me to abandonment.  
What use was my courage, if not that of bringing me pain?

**Narcissa**

I’ve risked to lose all I had in the world. My Draco, his disdainful smile, the face that I knew in every bit and corner.  
I’ve betrayed a whole life in a moment.  
It’s my fault he’s dead. If light triumphed over darkness.  
It was I who lied, just for the salvation of that boy that to me will forever be a child.  
I was grateful to Potter. If the Dark Lord had known, he would’ve taken away that life he had spared so many years ago.  
And now I’m here, with a husband who’s the mere copy of the man he was before, who lost his boldness the moment his master died. A dog who stopped growling and started wagging its tail, just in order to save himself.  
It’s true, he’s a coward. But I have to admit, his cowardice makes me feel stronger.  
And Draco’s still here. And he’s always the same, now he can live with his arrogance without me having to fear for him.  
He’ll never understand what I did for him. And I don’t think he’d appreciate me for it.  
But still... at times rare smiles appear on his face, dedicated to me.  
Maybe he’s less careless than I think. Maybe he knows.  
And he pretends, like all of us, to have a wall of solid stone surrounding his heart.  
After all these years I can finally say I’m a woman, not a puppet.  
A woman who learned rebellion, while still hiding it from the world.  
Thank you, Dromeda. A little of you, I now see inside myself.

**Bellatrix**

Around me, chaos.  
And I’m the queen of it.  
I feel the smell of death getting inside my lungs, mixing to that vibe of fear that covers everything I see.  
And I like it, as usual.  
I made just one mistake. But I’d do it again.  
I’ve tried to kill a daughter.  
I’ve always thought so, mothers become crazy.  
That Molly Weasley, traitor of her blood, is going to have my death on her hands.  
I die, right before seeing the triumph of my Lord.  
And yet, a moment before I fall, I look at his eyes.  
He’s scared.  
No, it’s impossible. It’s that look that kills me, not the Curse casted by that woman.  
He... Voldemort. The fear of a man who’s about to be defeated.  
We’ll be together, even in death. And it’s the only thought that soothes me.  
He’ll be the one to dull the flames of my Hell; we’ll meet among the damned, over which we’ll rule, uncontested.  
Nobody can turn off that power. Nobody can turn off my fury.  
You killed us on earth, but our black souls will haunt your dreams for all eternity. They’ll call us Incubus, and Ghosts.  
My last thought goes to my sisters. They’re still alive.  
Because they’re weak. Because they live in the shadow of themselves.  
I am dead, and yet I won.  
I am Bellatrix Black, I deny that so much hated Lestrange, and I pave my road to Hell. I go there dancing, to the place I deserve the most.  
And in the end, is better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.  
And if this is true, remember me as the worst devil who ever existed.


End file.
